


Beauty Within

by litbeyondmeasure



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gwaine Being Gwaine (Merlin), Gwaine Flirts (Merlin), M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:27:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28557588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/litbeyondmeasure/pseuds/litbeyondmeasure
Summary: It's a sunny morning, and a certain someone has caught Sir Gwaine's eye...(Very short one shot)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 8
Collections: Camelove 2021





	Beauty Within

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for the layout, editor isn't working

It was the crown of her head, ensnaring the light of the pans hanging from the ceiling, that had caught Gwaine’s eye in the crowded kitchen. Had he been wearing his armour, the roundness of her cheeks would have been further highlighted by the arrogant reflections of his chest, but as Merlin was cleaning the ale from the chainmail, Gwaine had been given one of his shirts. Through the gaps in the regiment of utensils, starkly stacked on rough cupboards, she seemed to glance his way, shyly turning whenever he returned the gaze.  
Intrigued, he withdrew into the shadows, watching her operate in the steamy surroundings. Time seemed to have no effect on her: the various servants weaving around in an effort to leave her undisturbed created a circumference of stillness, and stillness was something Gwaine was fond of, particularly after a night of heavy drinking. And Percival had challenged him the night before, throwing down his gauntlet and snatching Gwaine’s ale, which they had both known would leave Gwaine struggling to stand the next morning. Which it had, but Gwaine had still roused himself from the warmth of Percival’s arms to follow the rich scent meandering from the kitchens and, now, was clearly being rewarded for his struggle with the beautiful being elevated above the flagstones.  
Stealth had never been his strong suit, but was crucial in the situation he had found himself in. It was one thing to steal away a pie, anonymous amongst its peers, but to steal away the beauty with pink cheeks, especially when she stood stark against her surroundings, would be a mean feat indeed. Yet his heart was pounding at the prospect of taking the trembling fingers between his own, of seeing the shine of her smile up close, running his hand across her smooth face. She didn’t belong in the grime and dirt of the palace kitchens, but in the radiant light of the routes he walked, in the safety of his hand. She looked up again, the light bouncing off her, and there was a definite lurch in his stomach.  
Percival, on his way down from drunkenness, had let slip that it had taken him months to love, and entirely trust Gwaine, but Gwaine had always known that attraction was the foundation for love, not the reverse. And he was sure that he could grow to love the form stood just out of reach. He lingered for a little longer in the shadows, reluctant to break the peace and quiet contemplation of the object of his desires, watching the shadows fall delicately across her face. Everything orbited her, insignificant as she was, and he was about to crash directly through everything to reach her.  
Unable to withstand the wait any longer, Gwaine darted across the room and seized her, barely noticing the look of shock on her face, crafted by flitting shadows, as the cook raised a threateningly large wooden spoon in their direction. Stifling a laugh, Gwaine sprinted towards the door, ducking beneath various dishes that were anxiously raised, hand still securely holding his fellow fugitive.  
He didn’t glance at her until they had reached the safety of the battlements where, leaning against the stones to catch his breath, he saw she was bathed in midday sunlight. Grinning, he held her close to his face. She truly was the most beautiful apple he had ever seen, even as he plucked the stalk from her pursed lips, watching the leaves become caught in the gentle breeze. She had been ostracised in the kitchens, isolated on an island, the only explanation her sheer radiance. Gwaine turned the apple over in his palm, about to raise her to his lips, when his grip slackened, and she rolled away like a coin used as a tool for distraction, the maggots nestled in her belly stirring as they flopped onto the grass. Repulsed, he gave one last glance before fumbling along the trail back to Percival’s arms. The apple had clearly been a punishment for leaving him.


End file.
